All the Reasons I Can't Tell
by BC
Summary: Due to circumstances, Severus finds himself sitting between two Gryffindors. Learning about helping each other, he gets caught in the trap of attention, kindness, humour and blackberry juice.
1. Whomping Willow

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I won't get money for writing this.

Summary: Only one man knows what it was that in the end made Lily Evans change her mind about James Potter, and eventually fall in love with him. Only one man knows why didn't they choose Sirius Black as their Secret Keeper. Only one man died thrice on All Hallows' Eve in 1981. But were he to speak, no one would ever believe him.

Warnings: slash, three-sided relationship, violence

Chapter 1: Whomping Willow

x

1976, 7th of October

x

"Snape!"

Severus stared ahead, petrified. In the darkness of the underground corridor, the pair of eyes shone a sickly yellow, staring at him with lust. A tiny speck of light appeared out of nowhere, just for a second, _just_ long enough to reflect off two rows of red-stained fangs and to make the yellow eyes stray from him.

"Get out! Get out! Run!"

He heard the words, but didn't understand. His brain had shut itself down. He stood, motionless, and gaped, unable to even tremble. Was this what death felt like?

Out of the obscurity a large shape came barrelling at him, and he knew that there were two of the monsters and he was dead, dead, _dead_. Something plunked and with a waft of ozone came a touch that felt eerily like a human hand.

"You idiot! Run!"

Severus was slapped with a force that would have made his father proud, but it worked. His instincts kicked in and he turned on his heel and half-dragged, half-dragging sprinted out the way he had entered. The person by his side lunged forwards, virtually flew through the opening, flattened themselves on the grass and reached out a hand. Severus, intent on surviving, grasped it.

There was a howl behind him and the hand that gripped his wrist yanked and…

Something sturdy punched him into stomach. He flew three or four yards and fell on the grass, grateful that nothing felt like it was broken. He heard the other one scramble to stand up, scream with pain, and land on the ground next to him.

For a second they stared at each other. The boy was pale and sweating; his skin glistened in the moonlight. His eyes were wide and his chest rose and sank rapidly, with a loud wheeze punctuating every exhale. A thin trickle of blood oozed out from the corner of his mouth.

Severus realised that he must have looked a lot alike.

Another howl sounded dangerously close and he whipped around, aimed his wand on the end of the secret passage, but his voice failed him, and his hand was shaking too much to perform the correct wand-movement. There was nothing he could do. They were dead, dead, _dead_…

"'oo," exclaimed the boy next to him loudly – though incomprehensibly. Another waft of ozone came from him, and it blew away the fear and left behind a grim determination and the will to live, live, _live_…

The wild magic he had given up on using as soon as he received his wand responded and the entrance to the passage disappeared.

"W-what-" Severus stammered, staring at the other boy.

Potter spat out a mouthful of blood.

x

"James Charles Potter! What are you-"

Evans was stunned into silence as soon as Severus walked into the sphere of torchlight. He hated himself for helping the idiot get back into the castle, but Potter was injured, and because Severus had no idea exactly how badly, he couldn't afford to leave him lying outside. Well, he could, but he didn't fancy having to listen to his conscience in the case Potter would have died. So he lowered himself to supporting a _Gryffindor_.

"Snape…" the girl finally said, overcoming her surprise. She surveyed them both and shook her head in exasperation. "Idiots. The entire lot of you. Twenty points from both houses and Ma'am Pomfrey will undoubtedly inform the Heads. Follow me."

Severus did. On one hand, he despised having to obey a Mudblood, on the other – since she was a Prefect – whatever happened from now on wouldn't be his responsibility. And then… he knew better than to anger Lily Evans – one near-death experience was enough for tonight. He only hoped that McGonagall would wait until the next day to 'talk' to them. He wished Hades on Black.

Evans lead them into the hospital wing, wordlessly pointed at a bed and left to wake up the medi-witch. Severus still had no idea what was wrong with Potter, only that the Gryffindor was spitting an awful lot of blood, and couldn't talk. He felt a pang of sympathy for the pain, but supressed it as soon as he remembered who this person was.

The torches flared up and lit Potter's unusually pale face. He looked like a vampire after dinner.

"What did you do this time?" Pomfrey inquired exasperately as she entered the room, with the Gryffindor Prefect mere steps behind her. Obviously, she had been informed who the perpetrators were, and was none too happy to have to see to them again.

"Potter's spitting blood, Ma'am…" he offered. It might have been a useless information, but it at least averted the matron's attention from him.

"Where does it hurt?" she asked, a bit more softly. Potter attempted to lift his right hand but failed, so he lifted his left and pointed at his mouth. Pomfrey instructed him to open it and conjured a bowl he could spit in. Severus had to look away. His eyes landed on the Gryffindor's right elbow and the bump just above it that shouldn't have been there. He felt… slightly sick, slightly guilty…

Evans followed the line of his stare, clamped a hand over her mouth and ran from the room.

x

8th of October

x

"Snape."

Severus looked over his shoulder at a scowling Evans. She pointed at a door of an unused classroom he had just passed. Normally, he wouldn't be caught dead listening to a Mudblood, but she was pointing the tip of her wand (mostly hidden in her sleeve – where did Mudbloods learn tricks like that?) at him, and that swayed his decision.

As soon as he was inside the room, she locked the door, cast an Imperturbable, and a Silencing Spell. Her scowl eased, ever so slightly.

"Look, I have no idea what you two idiots got yourself into last night, but Potter _pleaded_ with me to get a message to you. I suppose you could do me the courtesy after all my effort, and at least read it."

Severus grimaced, but took the scrap of parchment from her hand. It was not hexed. It did not insult him either. He decided to unfold it, keeping it in a relatively safe distance of arm's length from himself. It turned out to be a perfectly ordinary (albeit scabby) note.

Snape, I know you probably want S. and R. dead right now, but if you decide R. doesn't deserve it, or that it's not worth the trouble you'd get into, cover story's that we'd an unfortunate accident involving the Willow. I hate to do this, but _please_, don't tell. J.P.  
PS: Dumbledore knows. Everything. Says it's up to us.

Who would have thought that. Potter swallowing his pride to plead with him… it warmed Severus inside. This might just turn into the perfect blackmail material. He would have the 'Marauders' in his pocket. All four of them.

Evans didn't seem to like his grin.

A/N: Cliché, I know. But I have a goal that is pretty original. Bear with me, and discover. And review, please.  
Brynn


	2. Pairup

Chapter 2: Pair-up

x

3rd of November

x

"Potter and Lupin, Black and Black…" Slughorn paused and patted his stomach. "Who remains?"

Severus raised his hand, wishing he could just hex the man into the next week so he wouldn't have to deal with him now. He, in his sixteen, was a better brewer than Slughorn in his Merlin-knows-how-many years. He honestly abhorred this class. He had to suffer the man's presence for hours, and learnt _nothing_, because he refused to pay attention to the gossip the moron spouted.

"Ah, Snape and Lily!" Of course. He would have to be paired with Evans.

Knowing that it was because they were the best two in this class helped only a little. Slughorn doted on the girl so much it made the entire Slytherin sick. She was nothing special – not nearly as talented as Severus himself – but for some reason she was the star of Slughorn's club of molluscan.

"Who is missing?"

"Pettigrew, sir," Lupin answered from the back of the room.

"Food poisoning. Ate too much for breakfast," supplied a quiet voice just behind him. Someone sniggered. Severus waited for Evans to get over to his desk.

"Lily, what are you doing still alone? Hurry up, Severus."

He suppressed a growl, and heard the pair behind him snigger again, as he stood up.

"Sir!" Narcissa called from the Gryffindor side of the room.

"Yes, Miss Black?"

"Sir, I think I'm going to be sick…" She was holding a lace handkerchief in front of her nose, and trying to stay as far from her cousin as possible, while sitting at the same desk.

"Don't make that face, dear. It will stick," Evans said calmly. Severus almost smiled – just in time he remembered to smirk – because Narcissa went pale, then red, then pale again, scowled at the Gryffindor (which had no effect at all – Evans maintained her earnest expression), then pouted and ran from the room.

Severus shook his head. Who would have thought some Gryffindors had a sense of humour.

x

"Neither of us," Potter whispered with a scowl. Severus continued grinding bat skulls and pretending that he didn't listen.

"Why?" Lupin asked. "I mean, I know it's dangerous, but you didn't mind before."

"You mean Sirius didn't tell you?"

"What was he supposed to tell me?" The steady rhythm of Potter's knife hitting the desk ceded. Severus decided that perhaps there was an up side to having to move and join Evans in the back of the classroom.

"I can't believe you didn't know…" Now Potter sounded angry. This was going to be good. More blackmail. "Dumbledore knows."

"How?"

"Because Sirius is a cretin."

"That's a bit harsh-"

Evans tapped Severus's shoulder and gestured to the cauldron. He had almost missed the time to add the skulls… He nodded at her, wondering why she didn't seem angry at him. He lifted his eyebrow and she shrugged.

"Happens…" she mumbled, and turned her attention to the next ingredient.

"…not here." Potter finished.

They were silent until the class let out, Potter leaving Lupin to take a sample and deliver it to Slughorn. Severus decided that he had behaved gentlemanly enough in moving over to Evans, and she would manage to bottle their potion on her own. He took his things and followed the pair, cheered up by the look of Slughorn when he examined Black's concoction.

Potter and Lupin took a few turns before either of them spoke.

"Sirius told Snape how to get into the passage under Whomping Willow and lead him there on full moon."

Something crashed.

"You're pulling my leg," Lupin sounded thunderstruck and scared.

"No. I wish I was. What did he tell you was the reason I don't talk to him?"

"He said you had had an argument but… oh Merlin… what… how…"

"Calm down, Remus. The Ministry won't find out. Dumbledore knows, and that's why we can't join you anymore. But Snape promised not to tell."

"That's why you and Sirius leave him alone…"

"That's why _Sirius_ leaves him alone. Look, I… I don't think I could continue doing that anyway. I… Since Mum and Dad died I… just can't, you know."

"James…"

"No. It's alright. I'll be alright. You'll be alright. They won't kill you. I promise."

x

5th of November

x

"Today we start on your end of term project. You'll have a few weeks, so no stress." Severus continued reading the _Aconite and Antidotes_, charmed to look like _Advanced Potion Making_ from the outside. "I want pairs. As a special treat, you decide them yourselves. Switch – I'll be right back."

Severus didn't bother to look up – there was an odd number of them in this class. He was quite capable of working alone.

"B-but!" Black yelled, and this time the commotion was interesting enough to observe. Black was standing alone with his hand stretched out to the trinity consisting of Potter, Pettigrew and Lupin.

"You need the grade more than I," Potter said glumly and let Pettigrew switch with him. Evans, who had been previously looking at little Prewett, froze in mid-movement and watched the boy survey the room, sigh, and aim to the front. To Severus.

He blanched. This was not happening. There was no way Potter would decide to rather work with him than Black. No.

"No."

Potter just looked at him and set his cauldron on the table.

"No," Severus repeated. "Go back to Black."

Potter shook his head.

"I don't want to brew a dangerous potion with an irresponsible child who lacks regard for human lives." The statement was delivered quietly, but most of the class was watching the proceedings with avid interest, and all the heads turned to Black, who heavily sank down into his chair and hid his face in his hands. There was not a trace of symathy in Potter's expression.

"I don't want to die," he concluded and was about to sit down, when Evans caught his shoulder.

"You can work with me. Alice will manage, and she's a dear. She'll let Black copy her paper."

Potter gave her a brilliant smile that dissolved his former appearance of a wet chicken.

"Thanks…" He looked back over his shoulder. "Sorry, I bothered you, Snape-"

It sounded genuine, and Severus went as far as to nod his head in acceptance. Then Slughorn entered, took in the class, and grinned inanely.

"Wonderful! Since there's one odd, you three can work together."

Severus let his head hit the desk.


	3. Project I

Chapter 3: Project I

x

"We should decide who will do what…" Evans, the little voice of questionable reason, suggested after half an hour of stony silence. Severus set _Aconite and Antidotes_ on the desk, and detachedly looked at her. Quite obviously, neither of the three was happy with the outcome, and Slughorn refused to listen to his pet Mudblood's plea to divide them into two teams.

"Very well," Severus replied frostily. "I'll brew the potion, Evans can do research and trivia and Potter… can carry your books."

"_Our_ books."

"_Your_ books. I'm not letting Potter anywhere near _my_ books."

"I can take good care of books!" Potter protested. It was a small wonder he wasn't screaming his head off by this time – almost as though he admitted that when it came to potions, he was totally inept. Like that would happen in this millenium.

"Yes, Potter. Naturally. Evans will be happy that you take good care of _her_ books."

x

"This is boring! Why do I have to sit here?" Potter whined to the corner of the library.

"It's also your project," Evans mumbled back, never lookig away from the text.

"But I'm not doing anything!"

"You should be glad that _someone_ is doing _something_."

"But my being here here is totally pointless!"

"Then do your homework for other classes or something, just _stop bothering me_!"

"Shut up!" Severus all but yelled, glad that he had had the presence of mind to cast a Silencing Spell around their table. _Their_ table. Just the combination of words threatened him with headache.

"Evans, do your work. Potter, vanish."

He ignored their glares and turned back to _Belladona in Brews_. He knew the five potions they had assigned by heart – there was nothing for him to do in the library. But, as opposed to the brainless twit, he could keep himself occupied while Evans indulged her bibliophilia.

x

"Where's the ass?"

Severus glanced up from _Concoctions with Chinese Chomping Cabbage_. Evans looked more tired than usually. She had red-rimmed eyes – he noticed the effect clashed with the colour of her irises. Weird. Not many people – statistically speaking – had that colour.

"Which ass?" Severus responded, feeling above pointing out that a Prefect and the hottest candidate for Head Girl should not use such degrading address for her classmate.

"Potter's ass," she clarified calmly. Severus couldn't stop the corner of his mouth quirking.

"I thought the silence was suspicious."

"He better not be on the Quidditch Pitch…" the girl growled and glanced out of the window.

"Who better not be on the Quidditch Pitch?" inquired a voice about three feet from Severus's ear. He almost jumped, but caught himself just in time.

"Your ass…" Severus mumbled. Potter didn't hear it, bt Evans chuckled. It was rather surprising – he had always thought that girls were giggling, not _chuckling_.

"Where were you?" she asked, with a perfect mask of strictness. If there were contests in imitating teachers in the Gryffindor tower like there were in the Slytherin common room, Evans must have won with McGonagall.

"Well, I wasn't doing anything useful here, so I thought I'd sneak down to the kitchens and bring you a snack." He deposited a tray with three glasses, a jug of blackberry juice and a self-filling plate of tuna sandwiches on the table, and gracelessly plopped down on the carpet.

"Have I grown another head?" he asked, and Severus realised he was staring. He tore his eyes of the Gryffindor and buried his nose in his book.

"I _didn't_ poison it…" Evans was finally persuaded to risk and take one. It turned out to be perfectly safe, and judging by the look of appreciation on her face also rather tasty.

"Of course not. You wouldn't know how," Severus muttered, but, despite himself, took one. It had been hours since he last ate. Thanks Merlin for house elves.

x

"We've been working together for two weeks. We could-"

"Next to each other," Severus clarified.

"Sorry?" Potter apparently didn't understand. _What a surprise_.

"We – that is Evans and I – have been working next to each other for weeks. You, Potter, did _not_ work."

There was a while of silence as the Gryffindor tried to come to terms with that statement. Evans went as far as to lower her book to watch the outcome of the conversation.

Potter took his sweet time, but in the end nodded and grinned.

"Alright. Still, we've been sharing the same breathing space-" Severus's stomach lurched. "- for two weeks, and have a prospect of another four. We could at least call each other by their given names."

"No way," Severus declared and turned back to _Draughts and Derivatives_.

"We could, you know…" spoke Evans.

"No, we could not."

"Come on, _Severus_." The shock made him look up again. He rarely hears his first name spoken without ridicule or contempt. It felt strange. Unfamiliar.

"No."

"Please?"

Potter was staring at him with anticipation, biting his lower lip, which actually made him look _stupider_ than he was. Severus glanced over at Evans. She practically radiated hopefulness.

"Lily," she said and reached out. Severus cursed all Gryffindors to the deepest levels of Hell and shook his head.


	4. Quidditch

Chapter 4: Quidditch

x

21st of November

x

For five years Severus was blind. He realised it at breakfast.

"Get away from me."

"What?"

"Get away from me, Lupin! Which part did you not understand!" Severus was making a scene, but he didn't particularly care. He was peripherally aware of a crowd forming around the two of them. His heartbeat echoed in his ears. He tried concentrating on taking deep breaths, but it didn't work.

This student…this child… this boy… this _monster_ had almost killed him. It was clear as crystal when he knew what to look for – and he knew, because they were starting werewolves in January in Defense, and he had read about ten chapters forward when he got bored in the class. How could he not have seen before.

Lupin stared at him with wide, innocent, amber eyes.

"I just wanted to ask you about-"

"I don't care! Get the fuck away from me!"

"Mr Snape!" Bloody Hell. The last thing he needed right now was for McGonagall to notice. "Such behaviour is unwarranted and entirely improper. Five points from Slytherin for the abuse of language, and a detention. You are in dire need of anger management, young man."

The crowd parted and let her through. Severus sneered at her tartan-clad back. That was justice – the Gryffindor gets away, the Slytherin is punished.

x

Severus spent the match browsing through a well-worn tome by the name '_Ethereal and Etherial_'. He didn't notice much, only that Evans had checked out the book on the history of the use of Veritaserum in Jury and brought it to the Pitch (but didn't read a page because she spent the hour pacifying a flustered werewolf), Black whinged to Yaxley about her broken nail in the row behind him, and Gryffindor won. Again. Stomping Slytherin into the ground.

Despite the lack of House pride he had exhibited on many occasions, Severus felt like drinking himself into stupor. It was time to scour the seveth years' hiding places.

x

Potter should have been partying in the Gryffindor Tower. He should have been sucking up to Evans, or petting Lupin, or giving autographs to his great many fans, or… Whatever. What he should _not_ have been was lurking in the Northern Dungeons and walking into random abandoned torture chambers.

Severus would dearly like to know how did Potter find him.

"So that's why you _begged_ me not to tell the truth," he said instead of a greeting.

Potter's eyed widened a fraction. Apparently his two brain-cells met and in alliance managed to put the incident in the morning together with the incident on the fullmoon a month ago. He nodded.

"It was not Remus's fault."

Severus snorted.

"It was _not_," Potter pressed on.

"I fuckin' _know_ it was not his fault. It was fuckin' Sirius bloody Black's fault!" Severus deliberately overlooked his own part in the madness, but Potter didn't object. On the other hand – this explained why Black was shunned by his three 'friends' and spent most of his time examining random girl's tonsils.

"Look, I know it's unjust that Sirius got away with it, but… he would just… I don't know, be expelled? But the Ministry would have Remus _executed_. And he doesn't deserve it. He didn't do anything wrong…"

"Nothin' wrong! Tried to fuckin' kill me!"

"No! He can't control it. His… his conscious is suppressed. He would have killed me as well…"

"'s dangerous-"

"He's _ill_."

"Shouldn't be in school."

"As long as he spends fullmoon nights in the Shrieking Shack he's safe. He's fine twenty-five out of twenty-eight days. It's not his fault. He didn't ask for it. He suffers more than anyone I know, and still is one of the best people…"

"Potter?"

"I… I can't loose him, too, Severus. He's my… _truest_ friend, I suppose."

Severus ignored the address and lifted his hand, offering the bottle. After all, getting pissed would only result in massive hangover and a tad more ridicule than average. He didn't mind parting with Lestrange's alcohol.

"'m not tellin' anyone, Potter. Just don't want Lupin anywhere near me."

The Gryffindor grimly nodded.

"Thanks."

"'m not doin' it for you."

"Why then?"

"None of your business." But Severus couldn't help but ask himself the same question. Somehow, he couldn't think of a different answer.


	5. Project II

Chapter 5: Project II

x

"Quit fidgeting, Potter! Just say it so we can get some studying done!"

Evans _sighed_ at him. Potter glared.

"Leave me the Hell alone!" he snapped, and ran out of the library. Severus shrugged, shut the Epilogue to _Farraginous Fluids and Fumes_, because it was a mindless drivel, and moved onto the _Gumbo or Galimatias?_ Which was rumoured to be a load of dung. Evans gaped at the empty doorway.

"What?!" Severus sniped. She turned to look at him. He couldn't help but notice dark circles under her eyes.

"There's something wrong with him. He isn't usually like that."

"Evans, he's _always_ like that."

She shook her head.

"No, this is more like he used to be. This year he became really quiet, a lot like Remus Lupin…" Severus shivered. "I think he's got some serious problems."

"Serious like Black?"

She looked at him impassively. Severus had to admit that it was one of the least ingenius puns he ever came up with. He shook his head.

"Your Glamour has worn off, Evans."

x

26th of November

x

"This is enough," Evans proclaimed, slammed the book into the desk and stood up.

"What?"

"If he's at the Pitch he's got another thing coming."

Severus groaned.

"Why do you _insist_ on his presence? He never does anything anyway!" Her expression softened, which was not the effect Severus had itended.

"He's trying. He at least brings snacks and drinks." Which was all Potter was good for. On the other hand, he _was_ doing it. Willingly, at that. And without a word of protest. But today he failed to show up altogether.

"What's wrong with you, Evans? One moment you're ready to bite his head off, the next you look like you're about to cry for him? Decide, woman."

"Severus, James lost both his parents this summer. I think it's finally catching up with him. He has no family. He does not talk to Sirius. He's trying to help Remus, and Peter's only getting in the way-"

"What is the point? You don't expect me to… let him cry on my shoulder or something?"

"I don't know."

"What?!"

"I don't know anymore, Severus. I'd like to help him, but I'm… _fuck_."

Severus gaped. That was the first time ever he had heard the Perfect Prefect utter such vulgarism. She rose a notch in his eyes.

"You are?"

"Forget it, Severus. Go back to your _Halucinogenes_, or whatever it is you're frying your brain with."

Severus shrugged and returned to the book.

30th of November

"Pettigrew!"

The little rat ducked behind a statue of Polyphemus the One-Eyed. Severus decided that it wasn't worth the bother with following rules, and cast an Impedimenta, trying to forget that he had learnt the trick with hidden wand following the movement of his index finger from a Mudblood.

"Let me go, Snape! You filthy little bastard-"

"Where's Potter?"

Pettigrew sniffed.

"None of your business."

"Wrong answer. I'll give you one more try. Where is Potter?"

"C'mon room…" the boy mumbled and scampered as soon as Severus released him from the hex.

He set out on the way to Gryffindor Tower. With a bit of luck Potter would hear from his lackey that Severus wants to talk to him and get his lazy ass into some neutral place – like a corridor.

x

"What do you want?" Potter asked, leaning against the wall. He looked rather worse for wear. Perhaps the woman was right, and he really had some serious problems.

"Where is Evans?"

Potter frowned, and the grinding of the clockwork inside his skull was almost audible.

"What do you mean 'where is Evans'?" Question was too advanced for such a simple mechanism… Severus pinched the bridge of his nose and abandoned sarcasm for the sake of efectivity.

"Evans followed your example and didn't show up in the library. I just want to know she gets her part done-"

"She said she was going. She left about an hour ago, and said she was going to the library earlier to check on something about Runes…"

They stared at each other for a few seconds, and then Potter pushed off the wall and headed for a portrait of ugly woman in disgusting pink dress.

"Wait here! I'll be back in-"

The scraping of the closing portrait drowned out the rest of the statement.

x

"She's in Greenhouse 13," Potter said with a hint of panic, and rushed to the staircase, not once checking whether Severus followed. Since there were no additional Gryffindors, he figured he might as well.

"Divination?" he suggested sarcastically.

"Nope. But I wouldn't bother you with my _boring_ means of gathering information." For Potter, that was an impressive response.

"Greenhouse 13 in not used," Severus remarked a short while later.

"Precisely."

x

Never, never in his life had Severus Snape imagined he would see _this_. Lily Evans, the Gryffindor Prefect and Slug Supernova, half-sat, half-lay on her school-robe, propped against spare flowerbeds. The top four buttons of her shirt were open, revealing a little of white underwear, but she didn't seem to care. In fact, she didn't seem to notice them entering.

"Lily? Lily!" Potter hurried over to the damsel in distress, and ended in distress himself when he realised she wasn't reacting. "We've got to get her to the hospital wing-"

"Wrong," Severus replied calmly, and sniffed to the empty vial that lay in a leaking bucket. "Move."

Potter complied, watching apprehensively.

Severus dropped on one knee in front of the girl and tilted her head back. Her pupils were so dilated, that the green of her irises was invisible. Her eyes were essentially black. Potter gasped. Severus held Evans's chin in his right hand, and gave her a resounding slap with his left.

Potter yelled something unintelligible and was about attack when the girl blinked, and her pupils contracted ever-so-slightly.

"Sevvv… 'rruss…" she slurred. Good. At least she wasn't too far gone. He would give her a minute to get to some semblance of conscious, and…

"What the fuck were you thinking you were doing, Evans? After all the idiotic things Potter pulled off… you just had be better, didn't you."

She sneered.

"Oh, yeah… I just _had to_. It's either perfect little Lily-darling, or 'you filthy Mudblood'! Even Petunia's all but joined you blood-purist Death Eater wannabes. Besides, its just sodding hypocrisy from wankers like you and Voldemort – with Muggle fathers!"

Ah. She was obviously getting better… Severus refused to admit to himself that she was in a way right, and that it stung.

"You've been reading some extracurricular literature, Evans," he replied with feigned nonchalance. "I for a fact know those words are not used in Hogwarts' textbooks."

"Fuck off, Sev'rus."

He decided to be patient, for the sake of his sanity. He had not expected to be saving Gryffindors anytime in the near (or distant) future.

"Evans, the shit you've been drinking is killing your neurons. By now you're probably addicted. It will kill you before you take your NEWTs. Not that they would let you – by Christmas next year, your brain will be pea-soup."

"Not good," Potter muttered nervously. Severus almost laughed.

"Your talent for observation is astounding, Potter."

Evans got her act together enough to glare at him.

"Look Severus, you know noth-"

"Evans, I _tried_ drinking that. Back in the day." He even invented a better version of it, for his personal use, but decided not to mention it because they were staring at him weirdly. Then Evans laughed, threw her head back wrenching her chin free, and started humming. Potter kept wringing his hands, torn between worry, pity and something akin to sorrow.

Severus slapped the girl again (and thoroughly enjoyed it, even though it was a lighter hit than the first one). Time for a little manipulation… He leaned close and gripped her chin so tight it had to be painful, forcing her to look him in the eye.

"I felt the cells bursting, Evans, one by one… _pop_. _Pop_. _Pop_. Do you feel it? That's three months of your life. _Pop_. Four. Need I continue?"

"Why do you care?" she whined.

"I don't…"

"Bollocks. You would be if the dungeons."

"I have no idea. I'll probably go to Hell for it. But right now that shouldn't interest you. What _should_ is that if you don't want to die, you either go to Pomfrey and kiss your Prefect badge goodbye, or."

"What if I want to die?"

Severus rolled his eyes – turned out he wasn't above that gesture yet, as he had thought.

"Don't be stupid. You're sixteen. You _don't_ want to die. If you're that bored why don't you keep company to Potter here. You keep each other busy, the rest of the world-" _Severus_. "-gets reprieve."

"Severus-"

He glared. Whatever Potter had to say was of no interest right now.

"'m not bored…" Evans grumbled. She was becoming increasingly hard to understand with her jaw in Severus's grip.

"Then what in Salazar's name made you brew Bane of Despair?"

"Sounds like an antidepressant…" Potter just _had to_ open his mouth.

"Well, it's not. Obviously. Evans, how much have you already taken?"

She hesitated for a while, but then finally figured that she wouldn't get out of answering.

"Tis' the second."

"Second _batch_?!" If she was that far gone… perhaps it _would_ be better to take her straight to Pomfrey.

"No. Second _vial_." Severus surprised himself by feeling relieved. He tried to argue in his head that it was because he didn't fancy doing research on history and laws for his paper. But Evans _did_ have a rather witty sense of humour.

"Potter, come here. You help Evans get to the cess. Then you will get her back _here_. Not Gryffindor common room. Not hospital wing. Not Headmaster's office. _Here_." He hoped that the instruction was clear enough for Potter's clockwork.

He didn't give Evans a chance to protest, pulled an emergency vial out of the inner pocket of his robe and handed it to her.

"Take this and go vomit everything."

Potter lifted her, and supported her all the way to the door. She wobbled a little, but it wasn't as bad as it looked on the first sight.

"And, Evans. _Everything_. I want Potter's report on what you ate yesterday for breakfast."


	6. Project III

Chapter 6: Project III

x

"Gryffindors. No food and a highly-addictive illegal psychotropic potions. I congratulate you, Evans. You surpassed even my brushes with death from poisoning."

Potter had adopted that irritating expression full of hope and faith, and apparently didn't find it ironic.

Severus ran a diagnostic spell over her. He had learnt it for himself, and never really expected to have to use it on someone else. But it worked, and it showed that unless she starts again, she might just escape with no permanent consequences. He nodded.

"_Don't_ drink the rest of it, Evans. You're lucky you'll be able to have children after this."

Paradoxically, the clockwork had to pick this statement to ponder and come to conclusions. Both Gryffindors gaped at him, thunderstruck and… _sad_?

"Sev'rus?"

He shook his head. That was years ago. He made to stand up, but Evans leant forward and… _hugged him_?

"I hate you," he said and meant it. Potter, for some reason, didn't yap his head off.

x

2nd of December

x

"Potter?"

No response. Severus scowled at the yellowed page of _Index of Ingredients_.

"Potter?"

"It's 'James'."

"Fine…" Severus growled. "_James_."

"What can I do for you?" Damn Gryffindor cheer to the deepest pit of Hell.

"How do you steal the food?"

"I don't."

"Of course you don't. It just turns up, complete with the tray and invitation to take it. Or you transfigured it out of thin air."

Potter yawned.

"Nope. I just get to the kitchens, ask the house elves for a snack, and they could kill themselves in the haste to please."

There was a while of silence.

"Would you bring more blackberry juice?"

x

"Potter?"

No response.

"_James_?"

"Yeah?" He sounded tired.

"Where's Evans?"

No response.

"_Fine_… Where's _Lily_?"

"In the dorms. She asked me to check out some books for her…" Severus frowned. She wouldn't be stupid enough to start messing around with potions again, would she? "She's alright… physically." Severus despised this. How could the stupid Potter _guess_ what he was thinking about? And guess it _correctly_? "She's become about as antisocial as you."

"You're one to talk…"

Potter sighed.

"Well, I have a lot of work."

"We _all_ have a lot of work."

"Not _school_work. Work. As if… done for money. Just it's done for _my_ money. I wouldn't expect _you_ to understand."

"Of course, Potter. What would an ugly, poor, _half-blood_ Slytherin understand about work?"

"I didn't mean it like that-"

"Desist, Potter. Save your pity for your groupies."

x

4th of December

x

"Sna-ape?" Yaxley whined in her nauseating nasal voice. Severus resisted the urge to cringe and turned to look at the pug-faced monster of a female.

"What?" She grimaced, and it made her look even _more_ repulsive.

"A Gryffindor Prefect wants to talk to you."

Severus sighed, slammed _Jugs, Jars and Jiggers_ closed and abandoned the recluse of his dormitory to meet one obnoxious woman.

x

"Evans, I gave you clear instructions. Anyone with a modicum of intelligence would be able to follow them. There was enough Cleansing Solution to last you until holidays. If-"

"This is not about the Cleansing Solution." The girl looked mightily jittery, and while Severus generally enjoyed watching Gryffindors squirm, right now her fidgeting was grating on his nerves.

"_Please_, don't tell me you're addicted."

Her eyes widened in shock.

"No! No, I'm not. I…"

"The sooner you force it out, the sooner you can get out of here."

"Your help is needed," she said carefully. Severus closed his eyes, counted to ten in ancient Greek, and opened them again.

"I notice it is not you in the dire need of my help. So, what is it, Evans? Another drug abuse? Prevention? _Abortion_?"

Evans was horrified. She had a reason to, perhaps – the third brew he suggested was as Dark as a library would list – but it seemed that life in the Tower was much less colourful than in the Dungeons. Severus congratulated himself, and waited for a response.

"It's not Potions."

Severus blinked.

"Then what?" What else would anyone want from him?

"Arithmancy."

x

The classroom Evans led him in was by no means abandoned. No tuition took place there, but it had obviously been in use frequently for quite some time. The first thing he noticed were elaborate wards – work of the teachers, apparently. He bumped into them, but Evans caught his hand and pulled him through without hesitation – and without resistance. Her fingers were warm and he hastily freed himself.

The desks were pushed to the opposite wall, except for the teacher's, which was relocated to the centre of the room. The entire expanse of the floor was chaotically covered with books, folders and rolls of parchment. And right in the middle of the mess, sitting on his toes, biting hard on his knuckle, shaking, on the verge of hysteria… was James Potter.

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose. This man was hopeless.

"What happened?" he asked of Evans, who was torn between comforting Potter and explaining the situation. Potter laughed humourlessly.

"What happened?" he repeated. "What happened… My parents died, that's what happened. I became the Head of pureblood family. And they – everyone – expect me to just manage. Overnight. I don't know what half of this stuff is…" He lifted his tear-stained face and looked at them. "'s numebers and codes. I don't recognise it. If I don't manage this, they'll take everything away…"

"Aha… and out of the three hundred plus people in the castle… you came to me. I won't pretend that makes sense."

"It's a matter of confidence," Evans explained. "Your confidence can be bought. And you are the only Slytherin we're on speaking terms with."

Scarily, that made sense.

"I doubt you have anything I would want."

"Do you know the name 'Hector Dawgorth-Granger'?"

Severus nodded.

"The founder of the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers. Author of three books so crappy, that he didn't find a publisher for the fourth."

"Cruel, and not quite accurate. He's also a Potions Master – one that can take on an apprentice. And, thanks to old walrus Slughorn, Hector and I are… acquaintances. Apparently, he hopes that I might want to specialise in Potions…"

"The point?"

"I offer you my future apprenticeship. I sincerely doubt I will want to further study Potions, and you get an official title."

Severus was taken off-guard. He would never be able to afford an apprenticeship with one of the well-known Potions Masters. What Evans offered him was… impossible to decline. Especially if the price was to be a few hours of mathematics.

x

Please review!


	7. Project IV

A/N: It took some time, but here's a new chapter. There will be others coming. I hope you like this story, despite my utter inability to come up with a decent summary. Thank you, all my reviewers. I hope there'll be more of you in the future.  
Brynn

Chapter 7: Project IV

x

11th of December

x

"I still can't believe that Potter wasn't able to do this," Severus grumbled, finishing yet another folder. It was a piece of cake. Evans put a stack of parchments on the growing pile by his right elbow.

"I don't think James is stupid." Severus scoffed. She glared at him. "I don't think _I_ am stupid. And I wasn't able to do it."

"That's because you Mu- Muggleborn. You don't have the necessary background. You wouldn't recognise the most ordinary acronyms here. And Potter lacks the required mental capacity."

Evans sighed.

"Can't you lay off for a moment? Look… I respect you, Severus. And – don't tell him I told you this – but James obviously respects you, too."

Severus lifted an eyebrow.

"When did that particular change of heart come about?"

"Somewhere between his parents' death and the evening when you two saved each other's life," she deadpanned. Severus found that he had nothing to say, so he turned back to the column of numbers. They danced. He rubbed his eyes and groaned.

"Is there no way to do this faster?"

"I've got a calculator, but instead of numbers it writes random couplets from Shakespeare."

"Shakespeare?"

"It's a _Muggle_ calculator."

That was the first time Severus laughed _with_ a Gryffindor. He ascribed it to the exhaustion.

x

16th of December

x

"Pince's coming this way!" Potter hissed, ducking into _their_ corner of the library. Severus raised his wand over the top of _Known Kinds of Knotgrass_ and Disillusioned their picnic. Just in time.

"What is going on in here?" the matron questioned sternly, storming between the shelves.

Severus and Evans innocently looked up, while Potter hid under the table.

"A study session, Ma'am," the girl replied innocently. "For Potions end of term project."

Pince seemed startled. She suspiciously looked around, while Severus wordlessly Disillusioned Potter, just in case. Not that the level of accomplishment needed to perform the spell – moreover performing it _wordlessly_ – would be appreciated.

"Well then…" She surveyed the area one more time, obviously hoping for something to be out of place there. "…continue."

She turned on her heel and marched back to her desk. Evans gasped with relief. Potter emerged from under the table and as soon as he regained texture stared at Severus with a weird intensity.

"What?"

"That was brilliant! How did you do it?"

Evans was equally interested. Perhaps he had underestimated them – a dangerous mistake to make.

"Concentration," he uttered, scowling. Something didn't add up… He narrowed his eyes at Potter. "How do you get the food past Pince?"

Potter grinned. Severus wanted to deck him.

"'s my secret."

He resigned and turned back to characterisations of different subscpecies of Knotgrass. He was disturbed once more by Evans patting his shoulder.

"What?"

She glanced at Potter – who busied himself with a Quidditch magazine – and back at Severus, and mouthed: "Not stupid."

x

"I think it's done," Evans stated, pushed the stack of books away, and reached out for a cream puff.

"You think, or it is?" Severus mumbled and shut the _Luxurious Liquids_ .

"I think," she said, resistant to his sarcasm. "You might want to read it through and decide if you want something added."

Severus took the tome, picked out the scroll labeled '1 – Index', and glossed over it. There was nothing important he would add. He definitely wouldn't have bothered with listing the countries where the Draught of Living Death was considered illegal, but otherwise the topics were relevant. He put it back and approved the material, not bothering to spend two hours reading through it, because one: Evans's paperwork was generally top quality, and two: Slughorn would be marking it. Heaven forbid 'his Lily' would receive less than Outstanding.

"It's alright," he assesed and returned the tome to her.

"That is some confidence you have in me, Severus," she remarked.

"You're Slughorn's favourite, _Lily_. You're an exemplary Prefect, you want the good grade, you have spent a month on it, you won't do Potter down, you're a Gryffindor, and I've got some nasty blackmail on you."

"That's all?" she quipped with a small smile.

"Nope. He left out that you're brilliant in Potions, and that your essays are the best of the year. Except perhaps Alice's in Herbology," Potter cut in rudely. Evans _blushed_.

"Honestly, you…"

"Just accept the compliment. I meant it," he gave her his trademark Quidditch-player smirk. "So, does this mean no more mortally dangerous picnics?"

Severus took _Luxurious Liquids_ and stood to leave.

"They were hardly 'mortally dangerous'."

"I don't know…" Potter shrugged. "I hear that Pince's a dragon; just learnt not to breath fire, cause it's not good for the books."

Severus blinked at Potter, who shrugged again.

"Well, mortally dangerous picnics are over," Severus said impassively. "I'll unfortunately see you later."

x

17th of December

x

"That one is no good."

Severus ignored the nonsensical statement, and continued scribling figures. Just a few more… there. Another folder done. He was finished for the evening. He stretched and grimaced when his backbone popped in several places.

Potter stood next to him and put the book Severus carried with him at the moment on the desk. The words _Mixing Moderate Medicine_, done in golden writing, glinted in the candlelight.

"That's my book."

"No, it's actually a book from the library."

Severus had to concede the point.

"And it is very good. One of the best of those meant for the general population."

Potter laughed a little. Opposites to his usual neighing, it wasn't an aggravating sound at all.

"I think we have a communication barrier." _Really? However did he notice?_ "You are speaking about the cover. I am speaking about the book."

Severus scowled.

"You were reading _my_ book?!"

"No. I was reading a book from the library," Potter clarified patiently. "Don't worry, Severus. I take good care of books. Besides, that's not the first time I've been reading this particular one."

Severus absently took the text from the desk, fingered the glamoured words and opened it on the page marked by a thin green cord.

…rare, since 1849, when general statutory duty to register was issued. In the following years, few wizards sought the ability, because the publicity surrounding their registration generally made all advantages of the ability itself naught. Presently, there are three to four Animagi per generation…

He closed the book again. He didn't want anyone knowing that he was reading this, especially not Potter. He waited in silence for the Gryffindor to start mocking him.

"As I said, that book is no good."

"Perhaps not for someone who wants to become an Animagus. That is not my case."

He met Potter's eyes. The Gryffindor was smiling softly.

"I know you don't want to become an Animagus."

Severus lifted an eyebrow. Potter couldn't be a Legilimens. It took much more concentration that he was capable of, and Severus was too good an Occlumens already. It was a useful thing with the Slytherin dungeons filled with little Death Eaters. Potter smiled, though _not_ mockingly.

"At least not yet. Perhaps one day you would want to. Right now you think that the theory behind the transformation will help you with animal transfiguration in class."

It took Severus a few seconds to realise he was gaping. Rather unbashedly, at that. Potter just kept on smiling benignly.

"I don't know if it would help, but if you want sound and _comprehensible_ theory on Animagi, try _Exhausting Reading on Alternative Forms_ by Uranus McGonagall. Registration number 1871 dot 3 slash TX slash 15."

Severus took the book, glared at the Gryffindor for a good measure, and decided to try it out. After all, Potter _was_ top of the Transfiguration class… and he _deserved_ it. McGonagall didn't favour anyone.

He was already by the door when Potter stopped him, putting one heavy hand on his shoulder. Severus hissed. It didn't have any more effect than his sarcasm had had on Evans earlier.

"If it doesn't help, I'll tutor you. Secretly, if you don't want it known."

"I don't need-"

"I know you don't need," Potter interrupted him. "But this will save you the trouble, and McGonagall the nerves." Severus hated it, but the truth was that he really, _really_ needed to get some better grades in Transfiguration. Preferably quickly.

"And what would you want for it?" Everything came at a price…

Potter shook his head.

"Severus, what you're already doing is more than enough."


	8. End of Term

A/N: Thank you, my reviewers! You are a scarce lot, and thus all the more appreciated. I hope you will continue to provide feedback, despite this not being one of the more favoured stories.  
Brynn

Chapter 8: End of term

x

19th of December

x

Potter, damn the man to drown in Styx, was right about the books. Severus grugingly started considering the possibility that Mr Gryffindor wasn't a _complete_ moron, though – of course – he would never admit it aloud. He gave a brief consideraiton to _how_ did Potter know about the books. Why would he _willingly_ read something, moreover something that was far above their current class level? One thing suggested itself – but surely Potter wasn't smart enough to manage that. It took self-discipline, patience and power of will, all of which he lacked.

Anyway, the truth was that Severus found the part of theory he hadn't understood, and it was – indeed – comprehensible to him. He felt quite sure about his ability, but nevertheless accepted one session of practicals (instead of that day's share of accounting), and it helped immensly. Potter, having stopped immitating Black's nauseating attitude, turned out to be a good teacher in an one-on-one situation. At least when he wasn't distracted by Evans.

x

21th of December

x

Having received the first look of approval from McGonagall since his third year, Severus was still a little dazed when the class filed in. He aimed straight to the first bench on the right. Everyone knew it was his bench. After an unfortunate incident in their very first lesson that included Narcissa Black, Boil-cure Potion, poisonous fumes created by ingredient that had nothing to do with it and Severus looking perfectly innocent, no one ever tried to sit there. Slughorn despised him ever since, but to Severus it was worth it.

Thus he was shocked when he stood in front of the desk and realised that there was someone sitting in the chair next to his and, what was worse, there was someone sitting in _his_ chair.

"Potter," he growled. The Gryffindor looked up, though for a while, and then his eyes widened with comprehension.

"Sorry." He hastily stood up, and let Severus sit in the place that was rightfully his. He glowered at Evans, who seemed unaffected by the exchange, and for a good measure turned to glare at Potter. It didn't work, because Potter was standing back to him.

"Accio chair!" the Gryffindor said calmly, with a low jump caught the piece of furniture that came flying over the other students' (who all hastily ducked) heads, and sat down on Severus' other side.

There, sandwiched between two Gryffindors, he found a new meaning to the word 'despair'. Although it could have been worse – for Gryffindors, Potter and Evans were downright decent in the past two months – he felt like he was cornered. Or a prisoner. That was apt.

"Relax," Evans said patting his hand with hers briefly. Severus fought the urge to strangle her. It was a tie for a while, and then Slughorn made his entrance – clad in garish red-and-green christmas robe that made Severus want to throw up – and beamed at them. Potter and Evans exchanged looks of disgust, then plastered fake smiles on their faces and beamed back.

Severus was impressed.

"So, class, I believe that all of you have completed your projects. You will find boxes labelled with your names on the shelf in the back of the class. Put your essays and samples there and-"

His voice was drown out by a stampede. Severus rubbed his tepmles; it was hard to believe that these idiots were sixteen… On the other hand, Evans, with her neatly-organised tome prepared on the desk, waited for the crowd to disperse. When most of the idiots were seated again, Potter stood up and let Severus past him.

"May I take it for you, my lady?" he asked of Evans, who seemed torn between blushing and berating Potterfor making an ass of himself – again – though she did let him carry the tome. Severus absolutely loathed the two.

"Wonderful!" Slughorn's voice boomed over the scraping of chairs. "And now, since it is the last lesson before the start of the holidays, you may choose whatever poition you like, and brew it for me. I will not give you marks, but for a perfect potion you receive bonus points!"

Severus snorted. With his marks he had no need for bonus points. Evans looked totally unenthusiastic. Potter perked up.

"Hey, I can brew a _perfect_ Boil-cure potion!" he exclaimed.

Severus lifted an eyebrow, and disinterestedly pulled _Newts on N.E.W.T.s_ out of his bag. Evans looked at both of them and shrugged.

"Go ahead."

x

"Ah, and the star team! What do you have?" Slughorn approached them with avid interest, having saved them for the last. He paused for a moment when he caught the herbal smell coming froum their cauldron, and frowned. Hesitantly, he took the last step and leant down to examine the substance. Slowly, as though not wanting to believe it, he asked: "A Boil-cure potion?"

Potter beamed at him, proud at his creation.

"Yes, sir."

Slughorn looked like he was going to cry. Evans stood up, closely surveyed the concoction, sniffed it, and matter-of-factly claimed: "It is perfect, sir."

Slughorn gulped.

"Very well…" He paused, harrumphed, and forced a smile. "You will each receive five bonus points." Jerkily, he turned around and aimed for his office. The bell rang, and there was another stampede – this time for the door. Severus stuck _Newts on N.E.W.T.s_ into his bag, and walked out, closely followed by Potter and Evans. They lasted until the door behind them was closed, and dissolve into laugh.

Severus found he couldn't quite loathe them.

x

When he waked into 'Potter's' classroom, they were there. Both of them. Severus didn't much fancy having to deal with two of them, but apprenticeship was worth more than that.

"You might want to go to pack…" Potter suggested. Evans shook her head and nodded to Severus in greeting. The gesture alerted Potter to Severus' presence; he gestured to a tall carafe of dark purple liquid and turned back to Evans.

"You're already packed?"

Severus went to pour himself a glass. This – his new-found liking of blackberry juice – was also the Gryffindors' fault. It was entirely unfair that they should have such influence on his life. He just wanted to be rid of them… and here he was, spending two hours daily in their presence. Life was unfair.

"I stay for Christmas," Evans said lightly.

"You stay for Christmas?" Potter sounded as if she told him she was going to be re-sorted to Slytherin. Honestly, what was so weird about staying for Christmas? Lot of people did it.

"You never stay for Christmas…" Potter said, entirely baffled. Severus turned to watch. Evans shrugged and smiled, but it looked fake.

"I stay this year. I want to experience Christmas at Hogwarts."

Potter wasn't fooled – behold! He shook his head incredulously.

"Ri-ight. Come on, Lily. What's going on?"

The fake smile dropped.

"Petunia said she doesn't want to see me."

Petunia again. Evans had said that name when she was stoned. Someone who joined the Death Eaters, or something…

"But you're not going home to see your sister," Potter objected. Sister… but Evans's sister woul be a Muggle… Not someone to joins Death Eaters… Severus gave up, unable to remember exactly what it was Evans had said. Meanwhile Potter continued explaining to Evans why it was wrong of her to stay: "You're going to see your parents."

"Right," the girl acquisced with a hint of bitterness and shrugged again. It seemed that she was doing that a lot lately. "Well, I'm not going this year."

Severus decided to take pity on them and resolve the misunderstanding before he had to watch a lovers' spat.

"Alright, Evans. _Lily_. And now the truth."

"The truth…" She trailed off. Obviously, there _was_ a truth, and it must have been something of importance if she didn't want to say it. Severus realised that he wasn't an audience she would want to talk in front of, but as long as they didn't realise it, it didn't matter. And he became interested.

Evans stalled. Her eyes darted around the room as though searching for a way out, but at the same time she seemed reluctant to pass the opportunity to have the information pried out of her. As though she knew she shouldn't have told, but wanted to… or the other way around. Finally, she sighed, stood up and went to the window. With her back turned to the room and its occupants, she spoke.

"I didn't tell anyone, and I don't want this coming out. My mother and father died in a car crash in May. I was not even notified. Before I got home, Vernon – that's my… that's Petunia's husband – stole what he could. I've got enough money left to just get through the school, you know. If I work the entire summers, that is." She turned around, fighting tears. "So. Happy?"

Potter was white as chalk and looked murderous. For some unknow reason, Severus shared the sentiment. Muggleborn or not, the fraud, robbery, and cruelty commited on a family member this 'Petunia' was supposed to care for… and take care of for another year and half at least… was fundamentally the same as between wizards. He could understand why Black's parents got rid of him, but why would Evans's sister do that…

"I'll kill him," Potter announced solemnly. "Do you want me to?" Severus never thought an instance would come when he would fully agree with this idiot.

"I'll help you."

Potter was only mildly surprised by his proclamation, and Evans gave them both a desolate smile.

"That's balderdash." She sniffed and wiped at her nose. "But thanks for the sentiment. You staying for Christmas?"

"I do. No one's home," Potter said with feigned aloofness.

"I always do," replied Severus. Evans bit her lower lip and laughed.

"You know what?" she asked. "We can start a club. A club for orphans."

"We could," Potter agreed. "But what about Severus? His father is not dead."

"I wish, though," Severus grumbled. Staying on his own, even working through the summers would have been better than going 'home' to that old bastard.

"See? Severus will be an honorary member."

Evans chuckled and okayed it.

"Fine, that's three of us. Enough for a club."

Severus wondered what he got into. And why the Hell didn't he protest.


	9. Holidays I

Chapter 9: Holidays I

x

"Well… I ceremonially open the first meeting of the Club of Orphans," Evans announced, lifting her glass of juice in mock toast. "Today's objective is… help James with keeping his money out of our government's greedy hands."

Severus clinked glasses with both of these insane people and decided that insanity was underrated. He liked Evans's sense of humour, and liked Potter's attitude when it wasn't aimed at him, and liked blackberry juice and, damn it, liked being a _wanted_ part of something. And the two Gryffindors practically forced him to join their makeshift club.

So why shouldn't he?

He decided he should. So they emptied their glasses, and dove into the accounting. Severus did the maths, Evans devised a lucid system of filing, and Potter did the manual work, and later snuck into the kitchens for more juice and a large plate of gulps, claiming that it suited the festive atmosphere.

They were idiots. And for whole four hours Severus felt like he belonged.

x

23rd of December

x

Thursday evening found Severus in the hospital wing.

He had been stuck in the dungeons for the past thirty-six hours, brewing potions for Pomfrey he had promised to brew, and somehow found no time for. The necessity was a statement to Slughorn's immense incapability, sense of self-importance, and laziness. Of course, it was usually a team of seventh-years who did the job, but Severus found the occupation had many, many advantages. With his knowledge of potions extending far beyond his current level, he had been brewing for Pomfrey for years.

Right now, on the eve of the Christmas day, he was restocking Pomfrey's cupboard and enjoying the sight of a work well done. These were his rare moments of usefulness, and he basked in them, before he had to head back into the dungeons and the rutine of ridicule.

He also didn't mind Pomfrey – she seemed to have taken a liking to him, and he couldn't afford to waste such a sentiment, especially since he was landed in the hospital wing by some helpful soul twice a week on average. His record was six-times – she offered to keep him there permanently that time. As trust went, Pomfrey was the person he trusted most in the world…

He was startled from his reverie by a familiar laugh.

"Now, now, Lily-precious!" Slughorn said in admonishing tone. "You should have told me you cannot drink."

Severus realised that he felt concerned for Lily. He had forbidden her to drink alcohol while she was still on the Cleansing Solution, and she should have been taking it until New Year in the least. He didn't want to go out there and face Slughorn, though, so he remained where he was, and listened.

"Horace?" Pomfrey asked. "What happened?"

"Ah, Lily here drunk some punch on my little party and it turned out that she should not be drinking anything stronger-"

"Your _punch_ was something _stronger_?" Pomfrey asked disbelievingly. Severus shook his head at her naïvety. Everyone who knew Slughorn wouldn't be surprised.

"Of course, Poppy!" the man exclaimed jovially. "We were having fun!"

Severus had an irrational urge to try some nastier Dark Arts on him.

"Help Miss Evans up here, Mr Potter," Pomfrey said and aimed to the cupboard. Severus reached the correct bottle on the highest shelf and handed it to her when she entered. She offered him a bewildered glance, then a nod of recognition, and went back.

"Oh… this is a very good quality, Poppy," Slughorn assessed. Severus smirked to himself. "Which students are brewing for you these days? I must award bonus points…" As if somebody cared about bonus points.

"Severus Snape helps me," Pomfrey replied distractedly. Severus pinched the bridge of his nose. She was not supposed to talk about that in front of the Gryffindors. "Brews a few potions for me in his free time since… well, practically ever since he came to Hogwarts. He used to spend too much time in the hospital wing back in the day… brewing at least stopped him from sneaking out every time I turned in a different direction."

Oh, yes. Severus remembered those occasions. Pince was not the only resident dragon.

"A first year, Poppy?!" Slughorn exclaimed, horrified. "Those potions are dangerous!"

Of course they were. And they were difficult, and advanced, and took a lot of time. That was why the walrus didn't make them.

"Ah, but Severus is unusually talented," Pomfrey replied curtly. "You know, I never understood why you didn't invite him to that club of yours." Severus was only glad he didn't have to go through that. After where it drove Evans… he didn't think it was a worthwhile occupation. And he despised Slughorn, and definitely didn't fancy spending more time in his presence than necessary. Apparently, the sentiment was returned.

"Poppy… please… He's malevolent. And such a sickly child, too."

"Pardon me?!" Ah, and now he made Pomfrey mad. Not a good thing. Severus doubled his pace to escape before she was done with Lily.

"That's a disgusting attitude, Horace! I would expect that from the students here, not from Professors. Good day."

x

He snuck out of the cupboard while Pomfrey was in her office, and stuck to the side of the room to avoid getting into her sight. Thus, next to a half-closed curtain that concealed the people on that particular bed, he happened to overhear another conversation.

"I don't like the way he talked about Severus," Lily stated through clenched teeth.

"Neither do I," replied James. "I would say this was a job for Marauders, but, my lady, how would you like joining in on a little vengeance?"

"Are you going to break rules, _Potter_?" she asked in her Prefect-voice.

"Technically…" James trailed off.

"Yes," they said unison, while Severus soundlessly mouthed the word with them.

"If we get caught, it's all your fault and I was trying to stop you."

"Deal," James said brightly.

It occurred to Severus that at some point he started to think of them as 'James' and 'Lily'. He groaned.

The curtain was immediately pulled aside, and he faced two wandtips.

"I keep running into you."

The wands were lowered and Severus took a moment to consider their attire. James wore rich, but somewhat understated dress robes, which made him look about two years older. All Severus' clothes put together probably didn't cost so much. Lily, on the other hand, wore a simple green dress, that made her eyes stand out. There was a small repaired tear on the side, which suggested that the dress had been in use for some time.

It reminded him of the fact that she probably couldn't afford a new one. He sympathised.

"We were-" she started.

"Looking for me, I know." Yaxley had yapped something about him 'infesting the dungeons with vermin'. "Please, try not to go looking for me in the common room without the excuse of the project." His 'dear Slytherin family' didn't like it. They asked questions, he lied to them, they ridiculed him some more, and then gave him dirty looks. Not that it bothered him, but they could make his life more uncomfortable than it already was.

"Sorry… We should devise a better mean of communication."

"Where were you?"

He sighed. "I had some work. Why?"

"We wanted to ask if you'd go to Hogsmeade. Frank got McGonagall to persuade Dumbledore to permit a last-minute trip. But you were nowhere to find." Severus wouldn't have gone anyway, so it didn't bother him.

"Feel like joining in on Slughorn-torment?" James asked, suddenly changing the topic. Severus raised an eyebrow, but refrained from commenting otherwise.

"I don't think so. Let me know when you plan to strike. I'll sit back and enjoy the show." He nodded to them and walked on, leaving them behind to wait until Pomfrey cleared Lily to go.

"You busy now?" James called after him. Severus yearned for his bed, and for him that qualified as 'yes'. He paused at the door, looked back over his shoulder, and nodded.

"Let me know if you'll need more of the Cleansing Solution."

x

24th of December

x

Severus had been exhausted enough to spend full eleven hours asleep, before waking just in time for breakfast. Since it was holidays, the Great Hall was bound to be virtually empty at seven in the morning.

He hiked upstairs, not surprised to see that the only occupants of the single long table in the centre of the Hall were McGonagall, Kettleburn, and Sprout. The Herbology Professor chattered inanely, aggravating McGonagall, who looked on the verge of silencing her. Kettleburn struggled with his fork held in his left hand, while his preferred right was bandaged from elbow to the stump of his wrist. Severus wondered when that happened – last he had attended Care of Magical Creatures (early June), Kettleburn still had both hands and majority of fingers.

"Merry Christmas, Mr Snape," McGonagall announced when she noticed him having entered the room, and gestured to the seat on Sprout's next side, unsubtly trying to divert some seasonal cheer away from her.

Severus nodded just enough not to be considered rude, and meandered to the opposite side, slipping into a chair two seats down from Ketteburn's waving elbow. He ignored the heaps of sweets and bakery, and after a while managed to locate an inconspicuous basket of rolls. After another – sligthly longer – while he found butter. It was not ideal, but (unless he would risk confection) it had to do.

Severus simply hated Christmas.

Sprout, in a bout of holiday enthusiasm that made her seem like a particularly overgrown Father Christmas's assistant elf, tried to engage him in conversation. He avoided with no effort at all, and the teacher once again turned to McGonagall. After that unsuccessful attempt they left him alone.

Quarter an hour later it was still just the four of them, when the post arrived. Typically, all three of teachers received stacks of letters.

What shocked Severus was that one of the owls parted from the flock to dove for him, and deposited an envelope on the thankfully clear plate.

Too agog to even start thinking about who might have sent this – his father to tell him how much he hated him? Some of the Gryffindors as a prank? Some of the Slytherins reminding him that they didn't stop hating him just because it was Christmas? Some…

Severus abandoned the line of thought. Since neither the envelope nor its contents were cursed, hexed or charmed in a any way, he decided to open it, if only to know whom to loath a little more come January.

Inside was an ordinary card, little less garish than the usual as Christmas cards went. Severus opened it with trepidation. There was a short message, written in green ink.

Severus, Happy Christmas! We would like to invite you to a speacial meeting of the CoO, today at eleven, CoO common room. J&L  
PS: Please, come.

Severus stared at the card, his shock not fading – rather magnified. Idiotic, sentimental Gryffindors. They'd better have something important to say…  
He didn't even have to decide whether he would go.


	10. Holidays II

A/N: Wow! It seems that this story is gaining its audience! Thank you, dear reviewers!  
Brynn

Chapter 10: Holidays II

As he stood on the threshold of the classroom – newly dubbed the CoO common room – he found Lily smiling at him.

"I wasn't sure you would come…" She crossed the area between them, practically running. Severus gulped and reached for his wand, but she was faster, stepping up to him and pinning him in place… with a bear-hug.

Severus immediately stiffened and waited for her to release him, on the verge of hyperventilating when she squeezed him somewhat tighter. Finally, _finally_, she let go and he could breathe again. His relief must have been obvious, because her face fell.

"I'm sorry…" The sadness was unbearable. Severus mentally kicked himself, but he hated seeing her look so down.

"It's alright, I'm just… not a touching person." It was not alright, but she smiled and then it _was_ and…

And then the door opened again (Severus hadn't noticed himself entering the room, nor the door being closed behind him) and James Potter joined them. The first thing he did was come over to Severus and give him an one-armed hug and a pat on his shoulder. Lily grinned at him sheepishly.

"It's a Gryffindor thing."

Severus sighed.

"I'm sure it is."

"What's a Gryffindor thing?" Clockwork boy was clueless – as usually.

"Severus says he's not a touching person." Now clockwork boy understood – and was outraged.

"Not a touching person?! How can someone not be a touching person?! Touching is wonderful! Besides, it belongs to Christmas!"

"I'm not much for the festivity thing either…" Severus mumbled, and apparently, it was one information too much disclosed. Lily's eyes narrowed and then widened. She had guessed.

"Alright, Severus," she said with determination that could move mountains. Her eyes were glittering, and suddenly Severus was glad that they were sort-of friends, rather than enemies. He was good with Dark Arts, but he feared that even he was not good _enough_ to stand up to this woman.

"There are fears worth overcoming and habits worth breaking."

"You've got to stand up to that shite, or your future will be the same as your past. You'll let him win and control your life, and… you can just lay down and die, or you can do something to _live_." Severus was too busy gaping at James to realise that the statement and guess-work behind it was far, far beyond the intelligence he had estimated the boy had. Lily seemed to be equally stunned.

James blushed under their gazes and looked down at his hands. "Well… I… ceremonially open the second meeting of the Club of Orphans. Our objective today is… have a happy Christmas." It hit Severus that, while he was used to it, this was the first Christmas day these two people spent without their parents, or at least their wide circle of friends. Severus no longer had any expectations, but they probably felt… lonely? Lonely enough to spend time with him… except that it didn't feel like that. It felt like they _wanted_ to spend time with him. It was new and it caught him off guard.

"Happy Christmas, Severus," James said to him, and pressed a green-wrapped parcel he pulled out of Merlin-knows-where into his hands.

"Happy Christmas, Severus," Lily echoed, and added another present on top of it. Severus felt his jaw fall. Since his mother died – which was a long time ago – he had not received a single Christmas gift (unless he counted one seasonal beating from his father). And now he got two at once. From Gryffindors, no less.

"I… didn't get you anything." In fact, he got nobody anything. He never did.

"'s alright," James said and waved his hand. "It doesn't matter."

Severus was beginning to get used to the Gryffindors' attitude, which was the only thing that allowed him to accept the gifts and not expect to be called on it later. Standing there and unwrapping presents was a surreal experience. He wasn't sure if he liked it; he was nervous and his hands were quivering as he reached for the bow of Lily's parcel…

It was a Honeydukes box of liquorice wands.

"I hope you like them. I saw you getting some last year…" She looked almost as nervous as he was. Severus nodded mutely and stared at the logo. He could rarely afford to buy sweets, and… that she remembered what kind he bought… even _before_ they tolerated each other…

"They helped me concentrate when I studied for O.W.L.s," he said quietly, and snorted. "Though they do have a nasty way of making your teeth yellow."

For a while they just stood there, Severus staring at his liquorice, and the two Gryffindors watching him. Finally Lily snapped, stepped forwards and enveloped him in another hug. He stiffened again, but when nothing happened to him for a while, he began to relax. It was actually kind of nice… He could smell Lily's hair. She was using a balm-scented potion against dandruff. He smiled.

"Thanks," she said quietly and let go of him. Severus hesitantly put the box on the desk – he didn't like parting with it even temporarily – and reached for the second parcel. James was watching him with trepidation, and it occurred to Severus that perhaps these people liked giving presents _more_ than getting them…

It was a book. He got a _book_ from James Clockwork Boy Potter. The cover looked somewhat familiar… Severus turned it to the side to see the title. It was the latest edition of the _Exhausting Reading on Alternative Forms_ by Uranus McGonagall.

He looked up and raised his eyebrow. James chuckled.

"There's an inscription."

Severus opened the first page. James must have put some effort into it, because his scrawl actually looked tidy and readable.

In case you'll one day change your mind.  
J.C.P.  
24. XII 1976 

x

It was five minutes to six, and Severus felt unusually bright, almost… _colourful_. Somehow, the holiday decorations didn't aggravate him nearly as much as they normally would, and he found himself _enjoying_ the sight that Great Hall presented.

There were seven pines standing along the walls, siw of them covered with red, green, blue and yellow trinkets, the seventh currently being tended to by a happy-go-lucky Flitwick. The table remained as it was at breakfast, though this time there was far less bakery in favour of creating space for the turkey, fish, potato salad, and piles of nuts and apples.

"Happy Christmas," said a voice from their right. Severus was sure it was meant for Lily and James, but he nodded to the Head Boy nevertheless. Frank Longbottom was one of the few decent Gryffindors – actually, he was probably the only one (apart from Dumbledore) Severus respected. He never picked on anyone younger or smaller than him – which ruled out almost all the students and half the staff. He – even in Severus's more than little biased opinion – fully deserved the Head Boy badge.

Someone bumped into his hand and Severus rapidly turned around, reflexively reaching for his wand. He stopped mid-movement. Lily gestured to the closest bowl of apples, already holding one. James obeyed without a word, exchanging a bewildered glance with Severus, who shrugged, and took a wrinkled yellow orb from the top.

"It's a Muggle custom…" Lily explained, picking up a knife from a random set on the table as they passed it on their way to the corner of the room. "You take an apple… and a nut…" She selected one, followed by nonplused James and equally nonplused (though he masked it much better) Severus.

"You cut the apple in half." She demonstrated. "If there's a cross, it means death close to you, if there's a star…" She proudly showed them one of her half-sphere's. The core had five seeds. "It means new life."

"Aren't you a bit too young to have a child?" James asked. Severus avoided rolling his eyes by aiming his wand at his apple and casting a Cutting Curse. Lily sighed and deftly nicked James's. Before poor Clockwork Boy could protest, his future was displayed for anyone interested to see – a star, nearly identical to the girl's.

James grinned, despite apparently having totally missed the point of the tradition. Severus rather felt that the entire thing was designed out of deficit of any rational customs.

"What do you have?" Lily inquired. Severus separated the halves and showed them off. James started laughing, and even Lily chuckled.

"Well, Severus, let it never be said that you are not extraordinary. I'm afraid that I don't know the interpretation for your apple."

There were six seeds. Severus shrugged – he could care less about some nonsensical Muggle attempts at divination – and questioningly lifted his nut, diverting attention.

"The health of your nut indicates your health in the new year…"

"Well, in that case the three of us are lost," James replied lightly. Severus snorted. Lily flushed, which was like a flash-light informing them both to back off.

"I'll have you know," she said haugtily, "that my nut is perfectly healthy."

"Sure, Lils," Clockwork Boy replied with a catastrophic lack of self-preservation. He earned himself half an apple stuffed into his mouth. Severus had to admit that, for it being an unviolent action that could not lose Gryffindor house points, it was a brilliant way of silencing the idiot.


End file.
